


When Your Superhero Girlfriend Gets Her Own Merchandise

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy is superhero, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, flirting fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson discovers Funko is going to release a POP! figure of aka Quake aka Daisy Johnson aka his girlfriend. He's really excited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Your Superhero Girlfriend Gets Her Own Merchandise

She looks at the screen.

Coulson looks at her, expectant, and with a it’s-Christmas-morning kind of smile.

“Mm, I don’t know?” she says.

“You don’t like it?”

Daisy doesn’t mean to dampen his enthusiasm. He looks really excited, his eyes all lit up looking at the prototype on the computer screen.

Not to say that this isn’t a big thing, because if you had told little Skye the hacker who lived in her van that someday this was going to happened… And she is supposed to feel proud (like Coulson feels proud) and excited (like Coulson feels way too excited). And she did save the world - again.

But she feels _so weird_ about it.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… why am I doing the quaking gesture with my left hand?”

“Maybe you need the right hand for the gun?” Coulson offers, trying very hard to find logic in superhero toys.

“Do you think it will stand? Because I’ve read some other female bobbleheads have troubles with that, they topple over.”

She probably shouldn’t volunteer the information that she reads blogs about superhero merchandising but hey, it’s one of those little patriarchy things, lady toy figures topple over because their bodies are too small for their heads because women’s bodies can’t be as wide as men toy ones. It’s a scandal, really.

“Mmm. Maybe it’ll be fine,” Coulson says, ever the optimist. Also it’s not like he has to worry about the patriarchy messing up toys. Daisy loves him but he’s still part of the patriarchy, of course it wouldn’t occur to him.

“Do you think the skin is a bit… too pale? I don’t want my figure to be whitewashed.”

Coulson frowns. “Okay, that’s a real concern.”

She closes the laptop.

“They must be really running out of superheroes, if they made one of me,” she says, shrugging.

Coulson touches her arm, letting out an audible _aw_ sound of disagreement.

“Don’t say that,” he tells her. “You deserve a figure more than anyone.”

He is so earnest when he says that, like he knows Daisy has heard this from him a million times but he thinks she should hear it a million and one.

And that adorable earnestness, of course, it’s why she decides to troll him a bit.

“More than Captain America?” she asks.

Deer-in-the-headlights expression and all, but he pulls through, bravely.

“...yes?”

Daisy laughs.

“Well, you’re kind of biased.”

Coulson does this shy gesture with his neck, looking around. Daisy runs to roll her eyes because they’ve been dating for months, but at the same time it’s cute how flustered he gets sometimes.

He draws his fingers across the top of her computer.

“Still. It’s pretty cool, right?” he says, with a hopeful glance.

“I guess.”

“Maybe we could send one to Ace Peterson,” Coulson offers.

“His favorite is Hulk.”

Coulson narrows his eyes at her. “I’m pretty sure his favorite is you.”

Daisy rests her hands on his chest and kisses him gently. He’s _really_ biased, and that’s okay. She’s not going to start complaining that her amazing boyfriend thinks too highly of her. And she is going to have a field day teasing him because of this, asking if he has pre-ordered a dozen figures. She deepens the kiss, grabbing his nape, some sudden energy when she remembers they have been so busy lately and that this looking at the news of a Daisy Johnson action figure (well, not an action figure, but she likes how that sounds) is the first fun thing they’ve done in days. Well, one doesn’t get merchandise without dedicated most of her time saving the world instead of making out in the Director’s office. Daisy wishes it could be the other way around. 

She breaks the kiss, thinking about the practicalities of this bizarre turn of events.

“Hey, should I ask for royalties? It’s my image, after all.”

“Probably.”

“And SHIELD could use the money,” she suggests.

“ _Definitely_.”

She looks at him, making light of a real concern (one quite pressing lately, since they have to build new bases). She looks at the greying hair in his sideburns, more of it since he’s known her, she’s sure. But he still thinks she’s the real deal, and uses every chance to prove it to her, his faith, his dedication. Like getting giggly over a stupid plastic toy.

“Maybe _you_ should get one,” Daisy suggests, because the guy she loves is a superhero in his own way.

Coulson, however, mocks the notion.

“As what? Human Guy,” he snorts, palming his tie into a proper position.

“As Quake’s Human Guy.”

One corner of his mouth lifts at that.

“ _Your human guy_? That doesn’t sound too bad.”

He comes closer again, brushing his nose against hers.

“Every superhero needs a sidekick,” she breathes.

“I’m so very honored,” Coulson replies, touching his lips to her again.

He maneuvers her towards the desk, kissing her until she is pressed against the edge. She wishes again life could be like this all the time - makeout sessions interrupted by heroic gestures to save the world, not the opposite ratio. Then again, a normal life rarely comes with a toy made out of her image. And that’s what started _this_ , Coulson being all delighted about it and showing the first official pic to her. It’s what has her climbing to sit on the desk, her legs around Coulson’s waist while she bites carefully at his lower lip.

“The idea of getting a bobblehead of me really has you _excited_ , uh?” she asks, pulling back and tugging at his tie.

Coulson grabs her hips, hooking his finger around the waistband of her jeans.

“What can I say?” he mutters against her mouth. “I’m a collector.”


End file.
